


Christmas Carols

by genevievedarcygranger



Series: Simon/OC fics [7]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 20:21:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13578252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevievedarcygranger/pseuds/genevievedarcygranger
Summary: Simon loves Christmas. Holly loves Simon. However, Holly is not a fan of Christmas. Can Simon change her mind? Does Simon love Holly, too?





	Christmas Carols

Holly yawned. She hated this shift. It was the worst shift to have for patrolling the fence because it was during the wee hours of the morning. That meant Holly either paced nervously, twitching at every sound and overly suspicious of the Dead and their moans. Or, currently, she was exhausted and could barely shuffle her feet. At day break she could go to her room to sleep, but until then she had to keep her eyes open and on the lookout for trouble. Maybe it was fortunate that the cold helped keep her awake so far.

Soon it would be winter, and Holly wasn’t looking forward to it. Winter was the worst at the end of the world. The Dead may freeze and get sluggish and stiff, but surviving was harder. This would be Holly’s first winter in a shelter, but the Sanctuary was more than just a shelter. It was a community: safe, protected, enclosed, powerful. The Sanctuary was a place to stay, but it wasn’t home. Still, it would have to do.

Shivering, Holly tried to bury herself deeper in her jacket. It wasn’t nearly thick enough for this Virginia winter. She’d have to save up her points to buy a new one. The last of her points had been spent on a haircut. As she carefully shifted her rifle to her shoulder so she could scratch her head, Holly sighed, a puff of her humid, warm breath hovering before her mouth before fading away. A haircut this close to the scalp right before winter seemed like a bad idea now. Oh, well. Hindsight and all that.

Her haircut had been useful in the summer when it was hot as hell; and after one close call when some jackass tried to yank her head off her shoulders she knew that she couldn’t keep her hair long anymore. Shame, really. A lot of Holly’s vanity came from having long red hair. Her eyes were brown and instead of getting tan she got covered in too many freckles and she was average everywhere else – but her hair had been vibrant and healthy and eye-catching and so long it reached her waist. But Holly was anything but stupid. She’d choose practicality and ugliness over being a pretty corpse any day. Corpses weren’t so pretty now anyway.

On her seventeenth lap around the fence, Holly started to slow down. The sun was going to come up soon, the sky already lightening to gray and pink creeping up over the horizon. Dawn was always beautiful to watch. It almost made this shitty shift worth it. Holly started to smile, but then as her eyes dropped down from the sky toward the gate, she pressed her lips together tightly. There was Simon.

Now, since Holly had been at the Sanctuary, she had become a Savior, but she had been assigned to Simon’s group. That meant she saw him quite a bit, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He was attractive, and he wasn’t the worst lieutenant to work under. Simon wasn’t quite as temperamental as Negan, and he certainly had a better sense of humor than Negan. He wasn’t as lax as Gavin, but he wasn’t a hard-ass like Regina, or a great big asshole like Little Timmy. But so far it just seemed like Simon didn’t know she existed. Holly tried not to take it personally.

For him to show up now, though, that was unusual. He’s a lieutenant. He doesn’t have to take these kinds of shifts. Holly couldn’t help but wonder if he was there because she did something wrong. And it was obvious he was waiting for her – it was only him there, and he stood with his hands on his hips, looking around the compound. Gathering her courage, Holly picked up the pace, hoping he was only there to relieve her so she could hurry to bed.

“Sir,” Holly greeted, fingers cold and cramping from griping her rifle so tightly.

Simon dropped his eyes from the sky, spinning his body to face her. “Hello, Holly.” He smiled brightly, and though it was still fairly dark out and though his thick black mustache covered his top lip, his smile was still visible and brilliant. Holly marveled at how he could keep his smile so white. Probably because they ran out of coffee a long time ago. It’s such a beautiful smile all the same.

“Earth to Holly. Hello.” Simon waved his hand in front of her face, and Holly took a step back, head ducking to hide her blush of embarrassment. “There you are. Where did you go?”

Raising her head, Holly stared over his shoulder at the sky, and wondered if he could see her blush in this gray light. “I patrolled the perimeter. Didn’t see anything. The ones on the fence are still holding up. Looks like they didn’t catch anything either,” she dutifully recited.

Shaking his head, Simon shifted to where he could catch Holly’s eye. “That’s good, but that’s not what I meant.”

“Sir?”

“Simon’s fine.”

Unsure, Holly didn’t say anything.

Simon charged forward anyway. “What I meant was where did you go just now?” He waved his hand in the air, twirling his index finger in a tight circle. Holly tried to not let it distract her. “Head in the clouds?”

“Can you blame me, sir, when it’s so beautiful out here?” Holly tried to excuse herself, making a point of looking up at where night is giving way to day and where the moon is still hanging alongside the scattering of stars.

“Yes, it is beautiful out here.”

At the sound of Simon’s voice, Holly snapped her attention back to him, her blush the same pink as the clouds. “Sir?” She questioned.

“Wanna watch the sunrise with me, Holly? It’s a damn nice sight to see.” Simon saw her hesitate and added, “You don’t have to stick around, but the kitchen isn’t even making breakfast yet. Few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.”

Holly only blinked. She didn’t think he knew her name. Why would he want to watch the sunrise with her? “Okay.” Nervously shifting, Holly dragged her attention to the dawn as it spread its golden and orange fingers over the sky, gray bleeding into lavender. She had heard that Simon was a little odd. This didn’t mean anything.

As if to disprove her, Simon moved until they’re standing side by side, craning their necks to watch the day begin. The air was heavy with the stench of death, but having grown used to that, Holly had to wonder why it was so hard to breathe next to him. Beside her, though, Simon didn’t seem to notice, humming to himself. The tune was familiar, but Holly couldn’t quite place it at first.

Her eyes widened once she did recognize it, and Holly couldn’t help but huff in displeasure. “That’s not funny.”

Simon’s humming paused. “Hm? What do you mean, Holly?”

“What you’re humming. The Holly and the Ivy. I’ve heard that all my damn life.”

“You’ve heard that more than a Holly, Jolly Christmas?”

She made a face at that one, too. “It’s not funny.”

“Well, good thing I wasn’t trying to be funny.” Simon looked away from the sunset and craned his neck down to look at her with serious, warm eyes instead. “It wasn’t even intentional. I was just thinking about how it’s getting to be that time of year again.”

“Winter?”

“Christmas.”

This time Holly couldn’t bite her tongue. “Did no one tell you the truth about Santa Claus?”

Simon feigned shock as he dramatically clapped his hand over his heart with a loud thump. “You’re telling me Ol’ St. Nick didn’t make it through the end of the world? Hell, you’d think the North Pole wouldn’t have had a dead problem. Hope the reindeer are okay.”

Holly bit her bottom lip to not laugh and she looked away from him at the sky instead. Simon, however, kept his eyes on her and she could feel it. “I didn’t mean to tease, but you can’t deny that it works just a little too perfectly right now.”

She kept her silence, but Simon took it as a sign to continue. “The holly bears the crown. Oh, the rising of the sun…” He half-sings, half-mumbles. His mustache muted his voice, but it still dragged over Holly’s skin in that pleasant way arousal does. Why was it that everything about him is so damn attractive? Hands and lips and eyes and smiles and now singing. It was all too much for her.

“Is this where you make some kind of comparison between you and Jesus Christ as a Savior?” Holly deadpanned, hoping it covered up the breathless brittle quality of her own voice.

Simon took it well and laughed, and fuck. Even his laugh was attractive, too. He clapped his hand on her shoulder, gently but with some unintended oomph to it that if Holly hadn’t already been breathless it might have knocked the wind out of her. “I didn’t make that connection.”

“That’s more Negan’s style anyway,” Holly said, and immediately regretted it. Besides his eccentricity, Simon was known for being intensely loyal to Negan. Right-hand man and all.

Instead of getting mad, he just laughed, and it flooded Holly with the warmth she needed. His hand was still on her shoulder, so large and warm it felt like it was burning a hole through her thin jacket. “That was a beautiful sunrise, Holly. Thanks for sharing it with me.”

“You didn’t even watch the sunrise,” Holly snorted, finally looking back up at him again. Just as she suspected, he was still watching her.

“I saw enough. I know beauty when I see it.”

What could Holly say to that?

Again, Simon filled in the silence, not letting it linger for too long. “Head inside and grab some breakfast, Holly, before you head to bed. You look like you could use the rest.”

“Thank you, sir,” Holly responded and before she knew it, she was already on her way inside, hanging up her gun in the armory before her feet carried her down the kitchens. She was in a daze. None of that could’ve been real, could it have? Shaking her head, Holly shoved a granola bar in her mouth and went to her room, her bed calling her name like one of Odysseus’ sirens.

Just as her head touched the pillow, Holly had the thought that of all the sunrises she’s seen, this one had to be the most beautiful – and she couldn’t remember a single detail of the sky except for how prettily it saturated Simon’s face with pleasing peachy hues. Then she was asleep before she could even balk at that.

Holly woke up a few hours later around noon, thanks to the sun hitting her eyes just right. Glancing at the clock, she cursed and leapt out of bed once she realized she slept through her lunch break. She was due to her next guard shift on the roof in less than ten minutes, and she’d have to go without lunch and the shower she’d been hoping to squeeze in. Well she was going to share her shift with Arat anyway. Arat wouldn’t make a comment.

When she made it to the roof, she was just on time. Laura and Gary had been the ones on shift, and as soon as they saw her, they nodded appreciatively before heading inside. They left their sniper rifles leaning against their posts, and Holly picked one up, checking the scope and ammo. Unfired. That was good. 

Absently wondering where Arat was, Holly went to take her normal position. It wasn’t like her to not show. Besides Simon, Holly couldn’t think of a more dedicated Savior than Arat. Unlike Simon, though, Arat was the strong, silent type. Not to say Simon wasn’t strong, just that Holly knew him to be a talker, whether it’s encouraging speeches or cracking jokes. But Holly liked how Simon knew when to be quiet; Negan sure as hell didn’t.

Also, Holly knew that Simon was the strongest of the Saviors, obvious given his intimidating size and bulging biceps. There was an arm wrestling contest for shits and giggles one day and Regina was the only one that gave Simon any trouble; but he still won. That had been fun to watch.

Alcohol had flowed freely, a variety of spirits thanks to the miraculously untouched liquor store Simon’s group raided. That had been Holly’s first trip as a Savior, and boy, when they stumbled upon that liquor shop, Holly had never seen a smile so wide on Simon’s face. She had watched him pick up bottle after bottle of gin, tequila, vodka, what have you. He had surprised her later by being able to hold his liquor so well. Simon was a happy drunk who slurred jokes and loved everybody. That was when Holly knew that she was in the right group.

In addition to that, Holly knew that Simon wasn’t the handsomest guy. Negan, of course, was quite a looker. Even as a powerful leader, Holly doubted he would have so many women in his harem if he were ugly. Negan didn’t offer Holly a spot as a wife, and Holly was fine with that. Negan may be handsome, but he wasn’t her type. And no one else caught her eye except Simon. Unconventionally handsome Simon, who could drink like a fish and smile like a shark. Mustachioed Simon who could carry a tune and tell a good joke and crush her easily if he wanted to. Just Simon.

What the hell. Why was she comparing everyone to Simon? Where the hell did that all come from? Hell, where did this crush come from? It was stupid to even think of seriously dating at the end of the world – especially her boss. Fucking around was fine, but emotional attachment was just begging for heartbreak. Shaking her head at herself in disappointment, Holly paced the perimeter of the roof’s edge. Where the hell was Arat?

As if summoned by her thoughts, Holly heard the door that led to the roof bang open. Spinning around, Holly moved around so she could see Arat on the other side of the roof. “Hey, are you alright? You’re not normally late, but don’t worry, I’ll cover…” Holly trailed off when she saw Simon’s broad, tall form instead of Arat’s wiry, small one bend over to pick up the other sniper rifle. “For you,” she finished quietly, immediately overcome with nervousness, her eyes riveted on his rear.

Turning smoothly on his heel, Simon spied her and smiled, slinging the strap of the sniper rifle of his shoulder. “Hello Holly, long time, no see,” he half-joked in greeting.

Shifting nervously from foot to foot, Holly bit her lip. “Sir,” she shyly returned, and moved away to the other side of the roof. The point for two people on the roof was to cover more ground anyway, so it wasn’t like she was avoiding him. But she was. After this morning, she was still unsure about everything; and Holly hated uncertainty.

But Simon followed her to her side of the roof, standing right next to her as she scanned the surroundings for anything unusual. “You can call me Simon,” he reminded her, “I’m not the boss.”

“No, you’re not the boss, but you’re still my boss,” Holly responded as casually as she could while her heart was in her throat, choking her with how fast it was fluttering.

“I thought we were friends, Holly.”

Instantly, her head snapped up to look at him, and he was staring at her evenly. “We’re friends?” Holly was almost ashamed at how hopeful she sounded.

“Well, yes, we are,” Simon informed her, his mouth curled into a gentler smile.

She didn’t know what to say to that, so she just nodded.

Thankfully, Simon saved her from the awkward silence again and finally looked away, sweeping his gaze over the fence. “Speaking of friends, Arat is sick – nothing terrible,” Simon assured her before Holly could ask, “just a really unfortunate case of dyspepsia.”

Flushing in second-hand embarrassment, Holly looked away. “Well, that’s shitty.”

Simon guffawed. “Is that a pun?”

After a pause, Holly gradually laughed along with him. “Not intentional.” Moving away from Simon, Holly started looking for any irregularities with the Dead on the fence. Normally, they could tell if any of the living were nearby, but there was as restless and listless as always. Another good sign. “No one else volunteer to take the shift?” Holly was surprised that a lieutenant would be doing this relatively boring job. Overtime pay was pretty generous with the points, but normally lieutenants were paid so handsomely otherwise that overtime never tempted them.

“Oh, plenty of other people were available, but I didn’t advertise the overtime opening. I decided that I’d rather do it without needing the extra points.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“It’s not like I need the points. Besides, your company is rewarding enough for me.”

Holly resisted the urge to shoot him another look of confusion. He just said they were friends. That was it. That was all they’d have to be. That was all they were going to be.

This time, Simon allowed the conversation to lapse into silence. He removed his sniper rifle from his shoulder, holding it easily as he moved in the opposite direction to survey the other side of the building. Part of Holly was relieved, no longer afraid to make a fool out of herself in front of her lieutenant, but a larger part of Holly was a little regretful that he didn’t keep talking. Even though Holly had a handful of Saviors she would consider friends, she was still a little lonely. Simon wasn’t that bad of a conversationalist either.

Pushing all that aside, Holly chose to focus on her work instead. Hopping up on one of the dull silver air-conditioner boxes, Holly pulled the scope to her eye so she could examine the tree line in better detail. Nothing. Allowing the nose of the rifle to drop, Holly bit back her sigh of boredom.

Normally when Arat was here, they’d talk about the goings-on at the Sanctuary. Who was seeing who, what the new shipment brought, if there were any open slots for outpost rotations, if Negan had his eye on a potential new wife, if there were any new communities. There was always something to talk about.

Now on the roof with Simon, Holly didn’t care if they talked about the fermentation difference between yeast and grapes. All she wanted was for Simon to talk to her. Glancing over her shoulder at him, she watched as Simon stood at the edge of the building, one hand propped on his hip into a balled-up fist while the other supported the rifle on his shoulder. He really cut quite an impressive figure, muscles straining against his gray shirt. Jumping down from the air-conditioner box, Holly approached him before she could lose her nerve. “Was Christmas always your favorite holiday?” She asked him as she stood by his side, resolutely staring out rather than staring up at him.

Still, she couldn’t help but glance up at Simon and see him staring at her with wide eyes, eyebrows crawling up high on his forehead in surprise.

“Sorry,” she began, feeling quite stupid. “I was just thinking about this morning and how you seemed so excited for Christmas to come.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Simon assured her, “I’ve been thinking about this morning all day today.” Before she could ask what he meant, Simon briskly moved on, “I never said Christmas was my favorite holiday.” With a sardonic smile, Simon said, “I’m more of a Valentine’s Day kind of guy myself, if you can believe it.”

“I can,” Holly said thoughtlessly, and Simon glanced at her with a quick smile before he continued to explain.

“But Christmas time was always fun with my… my family.” Without a tremor in his voice, he further added, “Camila and Gabriella believed in Santa right up until the end. Blanca thought I was crazy for keeping that tradition alive, but I wanted to for them.” With finality, he declared, “My girls were my life. Even though they’re gone, I won’t give up on Christmas. They wouldn’t have wanted me to.”

Compelled to share, Holly said, “My niece Iris was the same way. She got it from her mom, my sister Ivy. I… I don’t even know where they are. They were in New Jersey, last I knew.”

Looking at her with big, brown eyes, Simon seriously asked, “What made you stop believing in Santa, Holly?”

“I don’t think we know each other well enough for that.” They may have discussed their family, but Holly wasn’t ready to talk about everything yet. “Besides, I was never very religious. The end of the world solidified that for me what with the dead walking and all.”

Thoughtfully, Simon nodded. “Well, we’ll just have to change that.”

“What do you mean?”

Voice much brighter now, Simon told her, “I’m going to have to show you the spirit of Christmas, Scrooge.”

Holly scoffed, wiping away tears she didn’t even know were there as she turned away from him. “I wouldn’t say I’m a Scrooge. More like a Grinch I guess. I preferred A Christmas Carol, but I don’t think I’m like Scrooge.”

“So, you don’t like Christmas, but you have plenty of opinions on it, huh?” Simon chuckled behind her. “I’ll just have to make your heart grow three sizes, Holly.”

“Good luck with that,” Holly sarcastically wished, and dared to half-smile at Simon who just beamed right back at her like a star. Blindsided, she looked away.

Just then her stomach growled, and Holly hunched her shoulders, embarrassed and hoping Simon didn’t hear. Unfortunately, he did. “Don’t tell me you have dyspepsia, too,” he half-joked.

Blushing, Holly quickly explained, “No, I just, didn’t wake up in time for lunch.”

Looking concerned, Simon asked, “Did you eat after this morning?”

“Yeah, a granola bar.”

“You need lunch.” Simon unclipped his walkie-talkie from his belt.

Holly held up her hand to stop him. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Nonsense. We’ll just have lunch together up here,” Simon insisted. “You don’t mind if we eat together, do you?”

“After just spilling our guts to each other?” Holly joked nervously, but at the look on Simon’s face, she said, “Thank you, Simon.”

“It’s no problem at all, Holly. Now what do you want on your sandwich?”

Later after Dwight had dropped off the two sandwiches and a bag of homemade kettle chips, Holly was sitting on the edge of the building, swinging her legs. She wasn’t afraid of heights, and she wasn’t afraid she was going to fall. Simon felt otherwise as he refused to sit next to her, instead sitting on the roof leaning on the ledge, his head so close to her hip that Holly felt like the proximity was enough to set her on fire. It was only getting colder as the day went on, and the sunshine couldn’t warm Holly up. She had yet to complain about it, though, focusing instead on Simon’s pleasant company.

Still, he noticed her shivering anyway. “You need a better jacket, Holly. You’re shaking like a leaf and I’m afraid you’ll vibrate right off the damn building at this rate.”

Pulling her jacket tighter around her frame, Holly made her excuses, “I don’t have enough points.”

“What are you spending your points on, Holly? Booze can only keep you so warm. Trust me, I know.”

“I spent it on my haircut.” Holly touched her scalp, hunching her shoulders up high around her ears.

“Yeah, I noticed that haircut. It suits you.” Surprised, Holly looked down at Simon in her blatant disbelief. He hurriedly added, “Not that your hair looked bad before. You look good either way.”

Seeing the sincerity on his face, Holly hesitantly smiled and then turned away again, kicking her feet in the air with glee. A slight shiver went through her as she realized that Simon thought she looked good. And Simon saw that shiver, too.

Patting the space beside him, Simon invited, “Come sit down here, you’ll be out of the wind and it’ll warm you right up.”

At first, she hesitated, overcome with nerves from her crush. Eventually, though, she did as he asked and found that sitting next to him she could easily leech off his warmth. This would have to be enough for her.

As they finished the bag of chips between them, Holly registered between her bites that Simon was humming again. She paused to listen and then immediately shot him a look.

“Really, Simon?”

“What?”

“The humming again?”

“I blame you, Holly. You got the tune stuck in my head.”

“Why that song?”

“Because – in your own words – you’re a Grinch.” Simon grinned, all glistening, white, sharp teeth and bristling, black pornstache and sang smoothly, “You’re a mean one, Ms. Grinch.”

“Don’t tease me,” Holly said, wrapping her arms around herself more in a defensive maneuver than in an attempt to keep warm.

Simon did as she said, though, and dropped it. “Alright, Holly.”

“Thank you.”

Holly had dinner with Simon, too. Just Simon. Arat was still sick, and Negan preferred having a date night with one of his wives. It didn’t feel too intimate to Holly, just comfortable. They talked about a lot of things and nothing at all, but it was good. Neither of them talked about their old life for the rest of the night, focusing instead on the goings-on of the Sanctuary. It was a safer topic. Holly had another early morning shift, though, so she headed to bed pretty early.

The next time she walked her shift, she was still freezing, but at the end of the shift Simon was there to watch the sunrise with her. “Arat’s still sick,” Simon explained, “probably will be for the next three days.”

“That’s too bad,” Holly said sympathetically, but maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Instead of sending her off to get breakfast, Simon brought a boiled egg. “You need some protein,” he said and began to peel away the shell.

“So I can grow big and strong like you?” Holly teased him.

Simon chuckled softly under his breath, and then lifted one arm and playfully flexed at her, wiggling his eyebrows simultaneously. Holly managed to laugh, but her cheeks flushed with heat, and she was grateful for it. It was colder than yesterday, but the sunrise was even more beautiful.

Once she left, she went back to her room to sleep again, but was too worked up and excited to fall asleep quickly. With a frustrated huff, Holly slipped her hand under the blankets and closed her eyes. She touched herself, thinking of rippling muscles and black mustaches and deep laughter and warmth until she came and then sleep came easily after.

This time, Holly woke up in time for shower where she spent more time touching herself. Normally her libido isn’t quite so wild, but she couldn’t help it. She’s never spent so much time with Simon before. After her shower, she didn’t have enough time for lunch, so she headed straight up for the roof. This time it was Simon waiting on her, but he preemptively brought lunch.

“I didn’t see you at lunch.” Simon started to spread out the blanket, unwrapping another sandwich and pulling out two pickles. “You skip too many meals, Holly,” he lightly admonished her.

Grateful, Holly accepted the pickle he offered her. “I just lose track of the time a lot. I don’t mean to.” Kneeling across from him, she shoved half the pickle in her mouth so her hands were free to strap the sniper rifle across her back. When she looked up at Simon, pickle juice dripping down her chin, she blushed in embarrassment and Simon quickly looked away from where he’d been staring, clearing his throat unnecessarily.

A silence fell over them as they focused on eating, studiously ignoring each other as well. But just as before, Simon couldn’t keep up the silence for long. This time, though, Holly couldn’t place the tune. “What is that you’re humming Simon?”

“It’s from the Charlie Brown Christmas special,” Simon said after swallowing his bite. He had mayonnaise on his mustache, and Holly reached across and wiped it away without prompting. “Thanks,” Simon muttered, ducking his head and wiping his mustache again to make sure.

“No problem.” Holly licked the mayonnaise away unthinkingly. “Is it Christmas Time is Here? I could never sing the song, it’s too high pitched.”

Simon blinked at her and then broke out in a smile. “It’s sung by a children’s choir.”

“That would be why. Well, that and I was never very good at singing.”

“Neither was my Blanca, but she sang anyway.”

Holly hesitated and then asked anyway, “She was your wife?”

Simon nodded. “Twenty-five years of bliss and happiness.”

“My parents were married for thirty-eight. More than half their life.”

“But you never married?”

“Never met the right guy.” Holly pulled her lettuce off her sandwich, ripping it between her fingers. “I mean, that sounds like I thought I was too good for everyone, but it’s not really that either. I put college first and then my job, and just… once I realized I was alone, I couldn’t find anyone to share the rest of my life with. Ivy didn’t either. She divorced Iris’s dad by the time Iris was six months old. He never came back for his daughter.” She put her lettuce back on her sandwich, and glanced up at Simon who watched her pensively. “Do you think you could ever meet someone again?”

“Yes.” Simon immediately looked contrite. “I answered that too quickly didn’t I? But I do believe I could, yes.”

“At the end of the world?” Holly asked in disbelief.

Just as quickly as the last time, Simon answered confidently, “Yes.”

And Holly didn’t know what to say to that.

They settled into a routine. Dinner together. A small breakfast together at dawn when Simon would take over the shift. Lunch together on the rooftop. Simon always brought her food. An apple at breakfast, usually sandwiches for lunch. And each and every day, Holly caught him humming a different tune. It became a game to see if she could guess.

“Ugh, Silver Bells?” Holly started over lunch on the fifth day. She should’ve started sharing shifts with Arat again, but Simon moved around the schedule so that he could hang out with Holly more. Holly didn’t complain, and Arat didn’t seem to mind either.

“What’s wrong with Silver Bells, you Grinch?”

“That is the most annoying Christmas song you could pick. They’re all annoying, but especially Silver Bells. Jingle Bells, Jingle Bell Rock. They’re all awful. Any song or poem with bells suck.”

Rolling his eyes, Simon scoffed with a smile. “I still haven’t changed your mind about Christmas, have I, Holly?”

“Nope.” Holly shook her head. “My heart is still two sizes too small.”

“Time for me to pull out the big guns, then.”

Holly’s eyes darted to Simon’s arms, noting how the fabric of his shirt was straining against his muscles. “What big guns?” She asked, sliding her eyes back to him quickly before he could notice.

“Stay right here.” Simon climbed to his feet and moved to the air conditioner box where he pulled out a bag he had hidden behind it out of sight. “Here,” he tossed it at her and Holly caught it before it could hit her in the face.

“What is this?” She said, voice laden with suspicion.

“Open it and find out,” Simon urged, grinning wide.

Holly reached in the bag and pulled out a new jacket – her favorite color: gray. She shook it out until it fell open and immediately shrugged it on over her old one. “It’s just my size!” She exclaimed in surprise. “This is too many points on me, Simon. Food is one thing, but this is too much.”

“I’m Negan’s right-hand man, Holly. I’ve got more than enough points to spare and no one to spend them on besides myself.” He spread out his arms wide, that grin still plastered on his face. “And I’ve got everything I could possibly want right here.”

Not for the first time, Holly wondered if Simon looked at her romantically or saw himself as a paternal figure for her. He still would bring up his old wife Blanca. Holly learned that he met her in Mexico on an impromptu college trip with his buddies. He fell in love in a week and learned half-ass Spanish enough to say, “I’ll take my friends home, but then I’ll come back and marry you.” And Simon kept his promise.

But just as often Simon brought up Blanca, he wouldn’t necessarily bring up his daughters. Still, he did mother Holly a lot. He’d remind her to eat and now… now he got her a jacket so that she wouldn’t get cold. Holly didn’t know what to think, but she knew what she felt. Thankful, but more than that. Cherished… maybe loved. Maybe.

And Holly’s heart grew one size that day.

The next day, once Holly finished her sandwich, she stretched out on the blanket and stared up at the sky. She hadn’t slept well this morning. Well, even though she went directly to bed after she and Simon shared breakfast and the sunrise, Holly didn’t try to go to sleep. The points she had been saving on a jacket were spent instead of a vibrator. That had been a little embarrassing to buy from ol’ Mauve, but Holly needed it at this point. Points well spent in her opinion.

While Holly watched the clouds, Simon cleaned up the mess, humming. Holly’s eyes slid over to him, noticing how if his face was peachy in the dawn, it was golden in the daylight. He was always beautiful. She blinked, and then saw he was actually staring at her. But she had been staring first. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

His mustache twitched. “I asked if your jacket has been keeping you warm.”

Holly flushed as her mind immediately flew to naughtier thoughts of keeping warm. “Yes, it’s perfect. And it’s my favorite color. Did you know that?”

Simon shook his head. “No, actually I didn’t. I would’ve guessed something else. Blue maybe.”

Rolling on her side, Holly propped her chin on her fist. “How come?”

“I don’t know. Blue is the most popular color.”

“Is it your favorite color then?”

He snorted. “No. It’s orange actually.”

She cocked her head. “Not white?”

“Why white?”

“Your wife’s name was Blanca.” Holly pursed her lips, shutting one eye as the tried to dredge up her high school Spanish classes. “Blanca means white.”

This time Simon chuckled rather snorted. “Well, you’re right, that means white, but I do prefer orange. Blanca was rather vain. She loved white. She looked good in white, too.”

Flopping backwards again on the blanket, Holly stared up at the sky. Why should she be jealous of a dead woman? Simon didn’t question her silence, but went back to humming. It was a slow, sorrowful tune that nearly lulled Holly to sleep, but she refused. Negan would have her ass if anything happened on her watch. To fight sleep, she focused on Simon’s humming, trying to remember where she had heard it before.

Once she placed the tune, Holly smiled. “Are you an Elvis fan?”

Simon looked down at her and smiled right back. “Who isn’t an Elvis fan?”

“I guess Johnny Cash fans.”

“Oh, don’t make me choose.”

They both laughed together softly, and Holly wasn’t sure if it would be too forward and reckless to invite him down to lay beside her on the blanket. Instead she asked, “Do you think we’ll have a white Christmas?”

“I hope so.” Simon raised himself up on his knees, craning his neck to look around. From her angle, Holly admired the line of his jaw and the tendons on his neck. He glanced back down at her again. “Better than a blue Christmas, right?”

A slow smile spread across Holly’s face. She felt like all she did around Simon was blush and smile and eat. Not a bad life. “Yes. Better than a green Christmas, too.”

“Those are the worst,” Simon agreed and rose to his feet. He hitched up his pants again, looking around, and Holly thought he looked like a tree that would never fall – the sturdy kind that doesn’t mind the snow.

Simon bent and offered her his hand to stand.

Holly accepted it.

And her heart grew another size that day.

The next day at dawn, there wasn’t any snow. Holly and Simon had pancakes that he made himself. There was no syrup, but Holly didn’t think it was needed. Simon was sweet enough to her. He even brought her some gray gloves. “Don’t need your fingers getting frost bite.”

When Holly went to the rooftop later that day, though, there was a fine covering of snow everywhere, as light and fluffy as powdered sugar. The Dead on the fence went wild, snapping at the sky and shaking the shit off. Holly absently thought about her childhood dachshund who did the same.

“Looks like we got our white Christmas, right, Holly?” Simon said, interrupting Holly’s reminiscing.

“It’s just beautiful,” Holly admitted, leaning against the buildings ledge as she watched the snowflakes fall. It was almost too bright outside because of the snow being so reflective, and it was damn cold, but Holly’s new gloves and jacket kept her warm. The Sanctuary was finally starting to feel like home.

“Beautiful,” Simon agreed as he mirrored her pose beside her, once again looking at her rather than anything else.

Holly flushed under his attention and turned away to pick up her rifle. With the Dead so feisty, they had to pay extra attention to the perimeter today. Also, with the added snow, people may be more desperate to try and attack and sneak in. She and Simon started to patrol in silence, listening to the snow gently fall.

As the day went on, Holly started to get colder, shivering slightly and pacing more to get her blood pumping and keep warm. Her jacket and gloves did help certainly, but she needed a hat. Holly’s short haircut still wasn’t doing her any favors.

“You remind me of my daughter.”

She jumped at Simon’s sudden voice, and once she registered what he said, she didn’t know how to feel.

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t be. Camila was tenacious. She never complained about anything. Probably a trait of being the oldest.”

Simon had that look in his eye, the look that said he needed to talk to feel better. Holly shifted her rifle to a resting position as she got ready to listen. “Or it could be because Camila had nothing to complain about.”

Turning away from Holly, Simon shook his head, flecks of snow speckling his mustache and dusting his shoulders. “No, no, Camila had plenty to complain about. She was diagnosed with leukemia at age nine.”

Freezing in place, Holly blinked at stared at Simon’s taut back. Of all the things for him to say, she hadn’t expected that from him.

Without any prompting from her, Simon continued. “She was strong, though. Went through all the treatments. Was in and out of the hospital for half her life.” He stopped by the air conditioner and sat on it heavily, carefully leaning the rifle aside but within arm’s reach. “And despite it all she was a good daughter and an even better sister.” Simon sighed and put his head in his hands, shoulders slumped.

Cautiously, Holly approached him, and crawled on the air conditioner beside him. “I wish I could say the same.” He didn’t look up, but Holly kept talking anyway.

“My sister and I, we were born around Christmas time. We weren’t twins, though, we were a year apart. And I always hated having my birthday near Christmas. That meant having to split my presents. But then I also hated it because I had to share with my sister. But Ivy loved having a Christmas themed birthday. She didn’t think she was God’s gift by any means, but she just loved that it wasn’t during school and we would see our family and there was always the possibility of snow. But I was always the Grinch that ruined everything for her. I was a fucking terrible sister.”

“I bet that’s not true,” Simon said, and he had raised his head, looking up at her again.

Weakly, Holly smiled at Simon. “I’m glad you think so.”

“You know,” he began slowly, “I should be grateful that Camila’s cancer came back again when she was seventeen.”

“Why?” Holly croaked.

“Because she died in that hospital and she never became one of them.” And Holly instantly understood. “I met Negan in that hospital, too.”

“Really? Was he sick?” In an attempt at humor to lighten the mood, Holly added, “I bet he was in there to get rid of the clap.”

And Simon actually laughed at her joke. “No,” he swiped at his eyes, clearing away the tears, “he was there because of his wife. She had cancer, too.”

“Oh.” Holly thought about Negan, the man she knew now and tried to picture him as a man like Simon. She couldn’t. Knowing what she knew now, Holly would always pick Simon over Negan every time. Turning back to Simon, Holly earnestly told him, “I won’t say anything. I know he’d be upset if I knew otherwise.”

“Smart girl,” Simon said shortly, and sighed as he leaned back on his hands, staring out over the horizon like he did every morning with her.

Staring hard at his profile, Holly pressed her lips together in a tight line. How smart could she be when she was settling for friendship with this wonderful man? Her mind made up, Holly leaned forward and pressed her chapped lips against his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Simon.”

Before she could pull away, Simon had his arms around her waist and had hauled her into his lap, kissing her fully, mustache tickling her nose, hands warm through her layers, erection grinding up against her bottom. He eventually pulled away for air. “Merry Christmas, Holly.”

And Holly’s heart grew one last size that day, full of love to share with Simon.

“If you, uh, come to my room tonight after dinner,” Simon hedged, his eyes dark and smoldering at her, breath visibly mixing with hers in the cold air, “I can give you your hat. I forgot to grab it today.”

“You’re spoiling me with gifts Simon and I don’t know what to get you in return.”

“Just come to my room, and that will be enough.”

Holly caught on quickly. “Oh, I can definitely do that, but that’s a gift that for the both of us, huh?”

Simon’s thumb rubbed circled on her hip joints, voice low and sincere and sweet. “That’s fine with me. I’ll bring the music, and see if you can scrounge up any booze. We can make it a good night.”

She put her hand on his cheek, thumb sweeping across his mustache before playfully tapping the tip of his nose. “We can sing together, huh?”

“Yeah…” He smiled at her, and Holly would never get used to how beautiful it was – how beautiful he was. “Because, baby, it’s cold outside.”

Holly’s answering laugh was muffled by Simon’s lips as he dragged her into another kiss, and Holly’s last thought was that she was a bigger fool for wasting her money on a vibrator when she should’ve saved up her points on a Christmas present for Simon instead. Who knows, though, maybe the vibrator can be a gift for him, too.


End file.
